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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23464990">'til it's over</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Starry_Night/pseuds/A_Starry_Night'>A_Starry_Night</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Broadchurch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alec and Ellie's epic friendship, Angst, Cancer, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:09:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23464990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Starry_Night/pseuds/A_Starry_Night</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dunno if I should take that as a backhanded compliment, or another shitty platitude."</p><p>"Take it as a shitty platitude. I'm actually good at those."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alec Hardy &amp; Ellie Miller</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>'til it's over</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Wrote this in a couple of hours. Don't quite know where it came from, but hopefully there aren't too many mistakes in it. Strong language within, so tread carefully if that isn't something you're comfortable with.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How’s you mum today, Tom?”</p><p>Tom’s expression was strained as he looked up at Alec. “Same. She was sick on the side of the road and sick again when we got her settled. Go on up.”</p><p>As he ascended the stairwell, Alec glanced back over his shoulder to see the lad sink into one of the chairs and wearily scrub at his face. So much responsibility. It wasn’t right, but it was the way it was, and there was nothing they could do to change it.</p><p>Fucking diseases.</p><p>Miller’s door was partially open, an open invitation for him to enter in case of the rare possibility she was asleep. It had become so routine now over the past few months that he didn’t pause at the doorway and quietly opened the door enough to slip inside, pausing only so his eyesight could adjust to the semi-darkness. </p><p>“Afternoon, sir.”</p><p>He rolled his eyes hearing her greeting to hide the way his heart lurched. Her voice was small today, and rough with the puking she had done earlier, and he hated hearing her sound so. “God’s sake, Miller, don’t call me sir.”</p><p>“Got to call you something,” she mumbled into her pillow, “what with you hating names and all.”</p><p>“Not apologizing for that.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t expect you to.”</p><p>He sat down in the chair that was placed beside the bed, taking a moment to simply look her over. Still too thin, grey-faced and exhausted. Her eyes seemed too large for her face now, and her flyaway curls were gone, and her weight had declined, and today she would be exhausted just trying to make it to the bathroom. “Beth should be here shortly. Told me if I let you out of bed this time, she’d personally see to it that I’m castrated.”</p><p>That earned him an amused snort. “I’m sure she didn’t use those words.”</p><p>“No.” What she’d actually said was she’d have his balls, but that was a bit weird to say aloud. </p><p>The amusement deepened; he saw the curve of a smile hidden in the folds of her pillow. “You believe her?” </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>That actually made her laugh out loud, but it was short-lived and wheezy. She was drifting more towards sleep now, but she was stubborn—he visited every day for even just a few minutes to check up on her, but he’d be gone for a few days now and neither of them quite wanted to say goodbye yet. “How’s Daisy and the baby?”</p><p>“Good so far. Doctors said there weren’t any complications, the birth went on without a hitch. She’ll be sent home tomorrow or the next day as planned.”</p><p>“Named him yet?”</p><p>He shook his head. “Daiz said it’s a surprise, and I’m not allowed to guess ahead of time.”</p><p>“Glad everything went alright, then.” Miller’s eyes glanced towards the clock on the far wall, checking the time before turning back to him. “Should be going soon. Don’t want to miss your train.”</p><p>“Daiz knows I’ll make it.” Another watering down of the truth; she’d told him that he was not allowed to leave Broadchurch and come see his grandchild until he had checked up on Miller. Daisy knew him too well—as much as he wanted to see his daughter and grandson, a large part of him would have spent most of his time worrying about Miller and her condition. It was just ill luck that Daisy’s due date fell on the day before Miller’s latest round of chemo. “Got a lot of well-wishers, by the way, Miller. Even heard from Trish Winterman, wishing you a speedy recovery.”</p><p>Her expression flattened. “Fat lot of good wishes do,” she said with uncharacteristic contempt. “If they did do anything, I’d have beaten this by now.”</p><p>“Thought I was supposed to be the cynical one.” It worried him to hear her talk like that; it sounded too much like she wanted to give up. </p><p>“You are. I’m just facing reality.”</p><p>Now he really was worried. He sat forward in the chair. “What did the doctors say now?”</p><p>She swallowed. Curled up in the bed she appeared suddenly tiny and breakable. “No change,” she said quietly. “They were expecting to see a count increase in my white blood cells, and there wasn’t one.” She took a deep shuddering breath as her eyes filled with tears. “They said they’ll try a couple more chemo rounds, but if nothing changes by then they’ll… there’ll be nothing else they can do.”</p><p>He sat in stunned silence for a long minute, unable to immediately comprehend what she’d said. When the full scope of her words hit him, it physically rocked him backwards. “Fucking hell,” he breathed, “that’s—”</p><p>“Shit?”</p><p>“<em>Bollocks</em>! Don’t you dare give in now, Miller, <em>don’t you dare</em> lay there and feel sorry for yourself!” Shock was turning to rage, and it was only incensed when seeing the truth of her body language and tone: Ellie Miller was giving up. He’d seen her this beaten down and defeated only once before and he hated seeing it now, especially with the stakes being so high now.</p><p><em>Fucking</em> cancer.</p><p>“What else am I supposed to do?” she bit out in response. “The doctors—”</p><p>“Said they’ll try two more chemo rounds before quitting! <em>Two</em>, Miller! They didn’t look at your tests today and send you home to die. They didn’t say they were done yet. <em>You’re</em> not done yet.”</p><p>Tears were escaping her hold, tears of exhaustion and shame. “I’m so tired. I’ve been fighting this fucking cancer for a year now, and I come home sick and I have trouble sleeping and I can’t keep food down half the time, and poor Tom and Fred are stuck carting me back and forth—they don’t have lives right now, and Tom was planning his wedding!—and you and Beth—”</p><p>“Are <em>still here</em>, Miller, don’t you get that? None of us have left you yet, and you’re as stupid as I first thought you were if you think we will.”</p><p>He was genuinely confused when, instead of being offended, she started giggling wetly. “Dunno if I should take that as a backhanded compliment, or just a shitty platitude.”</p><p>He had to replay his last few words before he understood what she meant. He didn’t take them back, and he didn’t try to explain; really, she knew how he was so she shouldn’t be surprised. And she wasn’t. Her laughter subsided rather quickly as she met his gaze. “Take it as a shitty platitude, ‘cos I’m actually good at those.”</p><p>“I was angry before,” she admitted. “In the beginning. And you told me after Joe got off that fury is fuel… but I don’t think I can get that properly angry right now.”</p><p>“I’ve got enough for the both of us.” He looked over at the clock and shook his head. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah? I’ll have Daisy send you some baby pictures if you want.”</p><p>“I’d like that.” She was going to lose her battle with sleep soon now after her crying a moment ago, but she still reached out to take hold of his hand as he stood. “Thank you, Alec.”</p><p>He grimaced faintly at the use of his name, but his eyes softened in a way they rarely did, and he nodded silently in answer. He squeezed her fingers briefly and then he was heading towards the door without looking back. </p><p>It took a special kind of bravery to do that, and it was one that Ellie herself appreciated. It wasn’t too long after she heard Beth come in to watch over her before she fell asleep for a couple of hours, and when she woke up it was to an empty room. The quiet was too heavy, too suffocating, and Ellie began to feel panic pressing down on her being smothered by it. She started to sit up in the bed to stand and head downstairs when a flash of color caught her eye. It was on the chair where Hardy had been sitting earlier, and she picked it up to find it was a bright yellow bandanna. It was such a likely move for him to not give gifts in the traditional sense that she smiled and unfolded it completely. </p><p>
  <em>What’s your favorite color then? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why do I need a favorite color, Miller? Most people go through life without answering that question.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You’re just being ornery now. C’mon, I want to know, and it’s not like I’m asking for your deepest darkest secret. Here, I’ll go first. Mine’s yellow. Bright yellow. There, see? ‘S not hard at all.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>God’s sake—fine. Fine, if it’ll stop you asking. It’s green.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Huh. John Deere colors. Who knew?</em>
</p><p>She’d been given a lot of bandannas since she’d lost her hair. This was the first yellow one, though, and she’d wear it to the next chemo appointment and when she saw Hardy next as a thank you. Actions spoke louder than words, after all. He’d understand.</p>
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